


We Were Such Fools

by LiterateChick



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alcohol, Backstory, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Falling In Love, In a way, Miscommunication, Pre-Canon, but not a lot of it, i'm looking at you hurley, more like they got the hots for each other and are mad about it, so like eventual smut, they gon get drunk and bang is what, they're both just so unbelievably gay, to lovers, too gay to actually be enemies to lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-15 22:34:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12330207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiterateChick/pseuds/LiterateChick
Summary: Hurley's been put on the trail of a thief called The Raven. It would have been such an easy case to crack too, if The Raven hadn't turned out to be so damn attractive. A story about two complete messes falling in love through the medium of driving really fast and beating up other cars.





	1. Chapter 1

Hurley sighed heavily, flipping through the case file on her desk. A small string of robberies, all perpetrated by someone in a raven mask. She could do so much more than just stop this kind of petty crime. She looked up an saw Captain Captian Bane heading towards his office, and jumped up to intercept him.

  
“Hey, Captain,” she said, “you don’t happen to know if anything exciting’s come through, do you?”

  
Captain Bane looked down at her with a raised eyebrow. “Exciting?” he asked.

  
“You know, like, a big drug case or like a murder or something?” she asked. It sounded dumb even to her, but if she was lucky she’d be put on a cooler case.

  
“You have a case, lieutenant Hurley,” Captain Bane said. “The Raven has been responsible for eight robberies in the past five months. The city wants her taken care of.”

  
Hurley clenched her fists behind her back. “Sir, The Raven never comes away with more than 200 gold pieces and no one’s ever even got hurt while she robbed a place. This is kids stuff.”

  
Captain Bane gave her that face that everyone knew meant there would be no more arguing with him. “Than you should have no issue finding her,” he said, closing the door to his office behind him. Hurley groaned.

  
~*~*~

  
Captain Bane was right, in a way. Hurley didn’t have any problems finding The Raven.

  
She had left the office to get a coffee, clear her head. She went to the coffee shop down the street, ordered something strong with hazelnut flavour and whipped cream because damnit she deserved a treat. She stood by the window while she waited for it to be done, watching people going by, eyes following one person then another, not thinking much. Her coffee came just as she was noticing someone with long black hair, a leather jacket and some amazingly tight pants strolling along across the street. Hurley took her coffee and scooped some of the whipped cream off it with her finger as the woman passed by a magazine stand. As Hurley put the cream in her mouth she saw the woman, so quickly Hurley almost second guessed it, swipe a newspaper and shove it, crumpled, into her messenger bag. Hurley left the coffee shop quickly, wondering whether it was worth it to give chase. She considered just letting it go, but then remembered that apparently all she was good for now was stopping small time thieves. She crossed the street and followed the woman.

  
She almost lost the woman in the crowd a couple of times. Her quick steps meant that she didn’t fall too far behind but it was difficult to see sometimes around the forest of legs that surrounded her. She didn’t lose the woman though, and managed to spot her rounding a corner into an alley way. Hurley peeked around a corner, trying to not be seen just yet. The woman was there still, sitting on a set of back entrance steps, reading the paper and smiling to herself. Hurley blinked, taking in the woman’s delicate, half elf features, her dark eyes, her soft smile, those honestly unbelievably tight pants, and cursed herself for being such a completely useless lesbian.

  
So useless, in fact, that she didn’t notice that she’d stepped out from behind the wall and was now standing in full view of the woman.

  
She looked up, surely feeling Hurley’s eyes on her, and an eyebrow quirked up into her fringe of low cut bangs as she saw Hurley standing there. “Can I help you?” she said, and Hurley snapped out of it.

  
“I, um, sorry,” Hurley said, scrambling for a hold on her dignity, “sorry, I was just zoning out, I guess…” She took a step back, pushing a lock of dark auburn hair out of her face.  
“You on something?” the woman asked, and Hurley managed to laugh.

  
“No, ah, no I’m not,” she said, “just, y’know, got distracted by…” she trailed off, unsure why she almost just told the woman that she got distracted by her face. She usually didn’t get this flustered around pretty girls.

  
Unfortunately, the woman seemed to catch on to what Hurley was saying. She smiled in a kind of surprised, bewildered way and sat up straighter. “Oh yeah?” she said, and Hurley was distressed to find she had taken on a flirty tone. She had to get back to work, she had to salvage at least something of her dignity, she definitely couldn’t stand here flirting with an outrageously pretty thief. She cleared her throat and took another step back, almost out into the busy sidewalk.

  
“I’ve got some stuff I gotta get to,” she said, pointing vaguely over her shoulder. “Um, sorry for interrupting you, I guess.”

  
The woman laughed, a bright cheerful sound, and Hurley almost choked on her own inhale. “Don’t apologize, I was just checking out the wagon racing news.” She turned back to her newspaper, a wry smile on her face. “That Raven character sure is pulling ahead, isn’t she?”

  
Hurley snapped to attention. “What did you say?” she asked, stepping towards the woman again.

  
The woman looked up at Hurley, grinning at the fact she got her attention. She flipped around the paper and pointed to a section showing the rankings of the last battle wagon race. “The Raven, she came in fifth in the last race. She’s pretty new and races alone, it’s impressive she got up that high.”

  
“There’s a battle wagon racer named The Raven?” Hurley had never really paid a lot of attention to the battle wagon races. The police force was supposed to turn a blind eye to them, after all.

  
The woman frowned, folding the newspaper. “Not a fan?” she asked, and Hurley got the feeling that she was disappointed about something.

  
“I mean, I just don’t watch it that closely,” Hurley said, backtracking. “It’s pretty cool though, isn’t it?” She wasn’t sure why she said it, it wasn’t a sentiment she’d ever consciously had before.

  
The woman leaned back, nodding. “It sure is,” she said. She seemed to consider Hurley for a moment, then said, “if you want I could tell you more about it?”

  
This really was too much though, Hurley thought she just might have had a breakthrough and she had to get back to the station to look into it. “I really do actually have to go,” she said, heading back to the sidewalk again. Then, for some reason, she added “rain check?”

  
The woman smiled. “I can accept that,” she said. “What’s your name?”

  
“Hurley.”

  
“I’m Sloane.” The woman stood up, tearing a corner off of the newspaper and writing something on it with a pen she pulled out of her bag. “Here, call me.” She handed Hurley the slip, it had a stone of far speech number on it. Hurley took it and stuffed it into the pocket of her tan slacks, nodding.

  
“Yeah, alright,” she said. She looked up into Sloane’s face, she was almost two feet taller than Hurley. There was a teasing glint in her eye and a flirty smile, and Hurley felt her heart pound a little harder. “You will definitely hear from me, yes,” she said with whatever smile she could muster. And with that she waved goodbye and rushed back to the office to do some research on battle wagon racers. It took all day for her to get that last smile out of her head.


	2. Chapter 2

It was a few days before Sloane heard from that stupidly adorable halfling. She hadn’t really expected to get a call, of course, but part of her had sort of hoped anyway. That look Hurley’d given her right before she’d left, as she promised to call, had also promised mischief. Sloane had been looking forward to finding out what kind of trouble she and Hurley could get up to. Their second meeting, however, came at an extremely inopportune time.

Sloane was short on cash again. She was making her way up in the races but she still hadn’t cracked the top three, still hadn’t managed to get any of that sweet prize money. Robbing corner stores wasn’t exactly her first choice in occupation but the entrance fees were expensive and work as a mechanic had been slow. Besides, just like with her battle racing, she ran clean. In her mind it was a nearly victimless crime. The companies the stores she robbed belonged to were big enough to take the loss and she made sure she never hurt anyone. Gave them a scare, sure, but that was the most she did. And she hadn’t once slipped up.

Until she did. She was in the middle of a job, threatening vines and her knife pointed at the clerk as he emptied out the contents of the cash register into a bag. It was late, there was no one else in the store, no one on the street outside. As always she’d been very thorough in her preparations. The only thing she hadn’t prepared for was the clerks boyfriend who’d been snuck in the back so the manager wouldn’t catch them smoking and making out between customers again. He’d seen what was happening on the small black and white crackling security cam screen and called the cops.

Which was how Sloane found herself running from the corner store, bag of gold pieces hitting her in the leg rhythmically, being chased by a short but surprisingly fast Goldcliff police officer. When the police wagon had shown up Sloane had snatched the bag from the outstretched hand of the clerk and booked it. One of the cops had shouted “dibs!” and chased after her. Sloane had no idea how many of them there were and she only hoped she wasn’t running into some kind of trap. She turned a corner into an alley and swore. She was faced with a nine-foot-high fence. Without thinking too much about it she took a running leap and grabbed for any kind of handhold but she came up just too short. She’d had a head start, she reasoned with herself as she took another running leap, she had time to get over it.

As she slipped down the fence with no handhold again she heard a voice behind her. “You’re in trouble, Raven.”

She spun around and had to choke back a gasp. It was dark but she could still recognize the halfling woman. Hurley. She was standing in a monk’s fighting pose, curly auburn hair tied back into a bun, her face flushed with exhilaration. She was grinning wildly as she motioned to the badge hanging around her neck, signaling her as a member of the GCPD. Sloane couldn’t believe it. She’d been flirting with a cop.

“You’re fast,” Sloane said before she thought to disguise her voice. Hurley didn’t seem to recognize her anyway.

“It’s my job,” Hurley said as she took a step forwards. “You have nowhere to run, Raven, so you can make this easy or not but you are coming with me.”

Sloane looked around desperately for anything that could get her out of this. There, above Hurley’s head, a pulldown ladder that drew her attention to a flight of fire escape stairs. Hurley might have been fast for a halfling but there was no way she could jump high enough to reach the landing. She just had to distract Hurley somehow to be able to get to it.

“Hmm, you’ve got me,” Sloane said in her flirtiest voice, stepping forward and leaning down so that the beak of her mask was right at eye level. Just as anticipated Hurley looked instantly thrown off, dropping her fighting pose.

“Uh, yeah, I do,” Hurley said, trying to sound authoritative despite her confused expression. She regained composure more quickly than Sloane had anticipated though. She leaned in towards Sloane, her cocky smile flickering back into place. “This mean you’re coming the easy way?”

“Oh, darling, I never come easy,” Sloane said, looking up with just her eyes behind the mask, trying to keep Hurley from guessing what her plan was. She was under the landing now, just had to jump up to grab onto the bars. She was confident she could hoist herself over, if she could only make sure Hurley couldn’t react and pull her back down.

“We’ll see about that,” Hurley said, making confident eye contact with the mask. She pulled a pair of handcuffs from her belt and Sloane grinned, beginning to get an idea.

“Handcuffs?” she asked, “Won’t you even take me to dinner first?” To Sloane’s surprise Hurley leaned in closer, her nose almost touching the masks beak.

“Don’t get too excited now,” Hurley said, a wicked grin spreading across her face. “You’re not going to like this very much, I’m afraid.”

The look in her eyes had had some unexpected effect on Sloane. She shivered and almost didn’t act. But she could sort those feelings out later, when she wasn’t sitting in a prison cell. So she leant forward even more, the beak brushing Hurley’s face at the corner of her mouth. She whispered, just loud enough for Hurley to hear, “you’ll have to catch me first, hot stuff.”

She snapped her fingers, lucky she had spell slots left. A tangle of vines pushed out of the ground around Hurley and latched onto her, holding her still. There would have been a chance that she would have been able to avoid it had Sloane not caught her off guard, but as it was she was effectively trapped. Sloan let the beak brush her once more on the cheek before she straightened up with a laugh and leaped to the landing, ignoring Hurley’s scream of frustration. Like she thought she was able to pull herself over without much trouble and ran up the rickety steps. By the time the spell wore off she was on the roofs of the city, leaping from one to another. They were close together in this area and she was three blocks away before she had to climb back down to ground level. By that time the police had lost her, and she was close to her own apartment. Only when she got there did she have to face the troubling facts about how much fun she’d had hitting on Hurley, how the look in Hurley’s face had made her want, for a second, to give up and let herself get caught.

Something she definitely never expected was to get a call from Hurley the very next day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's super short but this chapter was a lot of fun to write. I've been wildly busy but reading week is coming up and i'm going to try to edit and post the rest of this before October ends so keep an eye out :p


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a heads up, this is the sex stuff chapter. Its right at the end. Do with this information what you will.

Two days after Sloane as The Raven tricked Hurley in a back alley the halfling was in her mechanics workspace, looking over her tools and nodding. Sloane still wasn’t entirely sure why she had agreed to the meeting, she should by all rights want to stay as far away from the person trying to arrest her as possible. And yet there was something irresistible about her. Maybe it was the wicked, fearless way she’d grinned at The Raven, maybe it was the expression on her face when she’d been filled with adrenaline from the chase, or maybe it was just the look in her eyes when Sloane opened the door of her shop, like she was so relieved Sloane was even there. Whatever it was making Sloane have to fight back a smile as Hurley looked around her small, unimpressive shop it was sure inconvenient.

“It’s not much but it’s a living,” Sloane said when Hurley turned back to her.

“It’s great!” Hurley said, “I haven’t been in a mechanics place since my dad sold his shop. I’ve always loved that smell, y’know? The one that’s all grease and new paint and fresh cut wood.”

Sloane nodded, the smile winning briefly. “So, what’d you want to come see me for?” she tried to keep her voice from sounding suggestive but it crept out a little anyway. Hurley smiled.

“Actually, I was hoping you might tell me some more about battle wagons,” she said. “I’ve been sort of looking into them since we talked, and I think it’s something I might like to know more about.”

Sloane stopped trying to hold back the smile. She felt it spread across her face and internally chastised herself for it, but not very hard. “I’d love to tell you more, you wanna come upstairs?”

Hurley only hesitated a moment before nodding. Sloane lead the way outside, through the smaller apartment complex door beside the mechanics shop door, and up to her small apartment. It was only four rooms, a living room filled with street salvaged mismatched furniture, the smallest kitchen possibly ever, the smallest bathroom definitely ever and a bedroom with just a mattress on the floor and clothes piled around haphazardly. She was glad the bedroom door was closed, she was pretty sure her raven mask was just chilling beside the lamp that sat on the floor. Hurley didn’t comment on the shabbiness of the place, just let herself drop onto the maroon couch with the springs that jabbed you in the head unless you sat just the right way, one leg up on the couch and the other dangling to the floor. Light from the setting sun shone through the open window and hit Hurley, turning her hair fire red and her skin dark gold.

“You hungry?” Sloane asked and went into the kitchen just so she could turn away and hide a blush she knew would be creeping up her neck. It just wasn’t fair, a girl she barely knew and who tried to arrest her looking so damn gorgeous and at home in her apartment.

“I could eat,” Hurley called as Sloane dug through the fridge.

“I have leftover pizza from the other night,” she said, wincing at her nearly empty fridge.

“Sure,” Hurley said. Sloane pulled the box from the fridge and, as a last-minute thought, grabbed an almost full bottle of wine and two glasses from the cupboard. She usually drank cheaper boxed stuff but she didn’t want Hurley to think she was completely broke.

“Oh sick,” Hurley commented when she saw the bottle of wine. “You got the good shit.”

Sloane laughed, looking over the bottle. She was pretty sure it only cost like 10 gold, but it looked nice enough. “I was gonna say only if you’re interested but it sounds like you are.”

“Hell yeah,” Hurley said, moving her leg from the couch so Sloane could sit next to her. “Cold pizza and wine is the food of the gods probably.”

Sloane laughed. “I’m sure we can set our ambitions a little higher then that, Hurley dear.” As she spoke she put the pizza box on the glass topped coffee table that was too big for the room but which Sloane had only had to drag half a block to get there. She uncorked the bottle with her teeth and started pouring. When she looked over to Hurley to confirm how much she wanted Hurley was looking impressed and, Sloane was maybe imagining but she thought, a little red.

“That’s hot,” Hurley said as she took her glass. Sloane laughed.

“It’s a good trick at parties,” she said, filling her own glass almost full. “So, what did you want to know?”

They talked for hours, quickly draining the wine bottle. Sloane told Hurley all about battle wagons, about the racers and the rules (or lack of them). She described the best races she’d ever been part of, at the beginning of the night carefully framing it to sound like she’d just been watching but as more wine disappeared she eventually forgot that battle wagon racing was, technically, illegal and that Hurley was a cop. Hurley didn’t seem to mind, she was drinking her fair share as well, and seemed absolutely entranced by the stories Sloane was telling. By the time the bottle was empty Sloane might as well have told Hurley that she raced herself. She was describing how exhilarating it was, the adrenaline and the excitement and how it made Sloane feel like she was alive like nothing else.

“Damn, babe,” Hurley said, “this sounds awesome. You’ll have to take me to a race someday.” She winked at Sloane before draining the rest of her glass. Sloane laughed, finished off what was in her glass as well, and made a terrible decision. She stood up only a little bit unsteadily.

“I can do better then that,” she said before she could think any better about what she was planning to do. “C’mon, I got something to show ya.”

She lead Hurley down, back into her mechanics shop. There, at the back away from notice, was something big covered in a sheet. Sloane pulled the sheet off her latest battle wagon, sleek and black with a pointed beak at the front for stabbing and shoving aside other wagons. She wondered, briefly, if the wagon was too on brand for her, that it would give it away, but Hurley didn’t seem to notice. She stepped up to the wagon, laid a hand on it, took in how it was built for speed and the dangerous look it had. She looked into the drivers seat, the long bench was built for multiple people and there was a skylight in the roof with a harness for someone to stand and defend from. Hurley leaned in through the open widow and laughed suddenly.

“Fuck, Sloane, this is awesome!” she exclaimed, looking back at Sloane over her shoulder. She had a slightly drunker version of the expression she’d had when she’d cornered the Raven in that alley, and Sloane’s heart skipped a beat or two. “You race in this?” Hurley continued, looking closer at the spiked wings that were folded up against the wagon at the moment, but which would swing out and tear up an opposing wagon.

“Yeah, I do.” Sloane said, smiling at Hurley’s excitement. “It’s the best feeling in the world, Hurley.” She threw her head back, imagining the feeling of the race. “When you’re out there nothing else matters, it’s just you and speed and the sheer fucking joy of it all.” She sighed heavily and when she looked back Hurley had her back pressed up against the wagon, looking at Sloane with considering eyes, eyes that could be suggestive of any number of things.

“Sloane,” Hurley said as she took a few steps forwards and stood on a bench so that she and Sloane were nearly eye to eye. “You’re going to take me out on one of these races. I have to know what it’s like.”

Sloane nodded without really hearing. She was entranced by Hurley’s too long eyelashes, her impossibly bright green eyes, the star scape of freckles over her dark skin. She wanted so much in that moment. She wanted to fall into Hurley, to get lost in her eyes and her skin and her mouth. She wanted to race, wanted to feel that freedom that nothing else let her feel, she wanted to grab Hurley by the waist and leave Goldcliff, escape to where nothing else mattered but counting the stars and matching constellations to the patterns on Hurley’s cheeks. Part of her wanted to run. She was good at running, she did it a lot. But most of her knew that if she tried to run from this she’d only end up coming right back.

“So,” Hurley said, her voice low, “are we gonna do this thing or what?”

Before Sloane could piece together what Hurley meant by that the halfling had pulled her in by her shirt and covered Sloane’s mouth with her own. It was rough and sloppy, both of them too drunk to care. Like everything else about Hurley her kiss was fast and impulsive, Sloane gasped and Hurley took the opportunity to slip her tongue into Sloane’s mouth. When their tongues touched Sloane’s stomach caught fire, she forgot everything else, she wrapped her arms around Hurley’s waist and pulled them as close together as she could. Hurley’s hands were in her hair, on her face, gripping her back, they were everywhere at once as if she couldn’t decide how she wanted to hold Sloane. Sloane crushed herself against Hurley but it wasn’t close enough, she wanted more. She wanted everything, right then, right there in her shop. Without letting herself think about it she lifted Hurley, whose legs wrapped around Sloane’s waist, never loosing contact with her mouth. As Sloane carried Hurley the short distance to the battle wagon Hurley moved her attention to Sloane’s neck, her shoulders, sucking and biting hard enough to leave marks. She sucked at a particular spot just below Sloane’s ear as Sloane opened the door and she moaned much louder than she’d intended to. There was that grin that meant trouble, Sloane stopped it by leaning in and sucking on Hurley’s lower lip as she lowered Hurley to the long seat of the battle wagon. Hurley bit back, not letting Sloane have the upper hand for even a moment. They were fast and messy and loud, Hurley shockingly so. When Sloane sucked down her bare chest Hurley moaned, and when Sloane ran her hand up Hurley’s thigh she whimpered greedily. She was needy and demanding and took what she wanted from Sloane, rubbing herself against Sloane’s hand when Sloane faltered. Sloane was surprised when, moments after she’d finished, Hurley brushed her hand over Sloane. She shivered and arched into it, needing it. Hurley’s short, thick fingers knew what they were doing and Sloane arched her back as she gasped noisily. It wasn’t long till she collapsed over Hurley, spent. They laid there for a moment before Sloane got up, pulled her clothes on, and Hurley followed suit. They left the workshop and went back upstairs, to Sloane’s bedroom which was perfectly dark. Once they were there it didn’t take them long to lose their clothes again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ive never posted anything remotely smutty before so like.... im gonna go die now lol


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning Hurley woke up early like usual. She had a headache and a vague memory of fucking Sloane. She turned and saw Sloane in the bed next to her, her usually perfectly straight hair sticking in all directions and only half covered by the faded sheet they’d shared. Hurley smiled thinking of the night before. Most of the time when things like this happened to her she regretted it at least a little in the morning, but all she felt then was a glowing happiness. She hadn’t totally been expecting her night to go the way it did but it had been fun. Then her eye was caught by something else in the room and her tired mind spun.

When Sloane woke up a half hour later she found Hurley in the living room. Hurley was sitting in a tattered floral armchair, the raven mask sitting on the coffee table in front of her.

“Ah, shit,” Sloane said when she came in the room, “I forgot about that.”

“Yeah, I don’t blame you,” Hurley said. She was staring at the mask, having looked up briefly at Sloane when she came in the room. She’d made herself a coffee in the small kitchen while waiting for Sloane to wake up. She figured it was the least Sloane owed her after her fellow officers had made fun of her for getting vine tangled and letting The Raven go.

“So what happens now?” Sloane asked, standing awkwardly in the doorway, wearing only an oversized t-shirt. God damn it, Hurley thought, why did she have to be so fucking hot?

“I’ve been trying to figure that out for a while now,” Hurley said. “I think what happens is, for one, you don’t rob any more places.”

Sloane furrowed her brow. “You mean it’s not that you arrest me?”

Hurley sighed. “Don’t tempt me,” she said. Then she looked up, pushed her hair out of her face and considered Sloane carefully. “Listen, my job is to stop crime, right? So stop committing crimes and I don’t have to arrest you.”

Sloane snorted. “Yeah, I mean okay,” she said, sitting on the couch across from Hurley. “So what, you just keep it a secret?”

Hurley shrugged. “If The Raven disappears people don’t want us to get her off the streets anymore. I get a better, more interesting case. You don’t get arrested. Everyone wins.” Hurley said it quick, before she could change her mind.

Sloane leaned back, sprawling out on the couch. “Alright, cool,” she said. “Sounds good to me.”

“There’s one more thing,” Hurley said, sipping her coffee. This was what she really wanted from Sloane, what she’d been thinking about all morning and what had stopped her when she thought about bringing Sloane in. She took a breath before she started. “From what you said last night it sounds like most of the wagon racers work in teams, but you don’t seem to have one.”

Sloane frowned. “Not at the moment,” she said. “Just me.”

“Not anymore,” Hurley said, a grin spreading across her face. “I’m gonna race with you, you’re gonna show me how.”

Sloane laughed, throwing her hand over her face. “Ha, shit,” she said. “I mean yeah, alright. Why not?”

Which is how it began.

That day Hurley went to work and worked on anything other than the Raven case. She kept getting flashes from the night before and tried to supress them. She couldn’t imagine Sloane wasn’t regretting some things about the night before. Hurley couldn’t blame her, she was a drunken one night stand and also a cop. But Hurley was going back there that night, Sloane said they’d start preparing for the next race right away. When Hurley got off work she went straight to Sloane’s apartment, excited to get started.

Sloane opened the door to the mechanics shop looking a lot like what she did the day before. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and a smudge of grease was absently streaked on her forehead. She was wearing a loose white t-shirt and tattered jeans. There were a few dark marks on her neck and shoulders that Hurley thought she’d given her. She looked incredible.

“So,” Hurley said, trying to ignore the way Sloane smiled when she saw her standing there, “what’s the plan today?”

“Well, we’re staying away from the wine for one,” Sloane said with a laugh. Hurley snorted.

“Yeah, probably smart,” she said.

What they did instead was take Sloane’s wagon out of town, down below the cliffs. Sloane was behind the wheel.

“I’m gonna show you how fast this baby can go,” Sloane said. “Just worry about holding on this time around.” And then they took off.

It was so fast. For the first few seconds Hurley just struggled to comprehend how fast they were going. The outside was whipping by. All that existed were the two of them, the night sky they were driving into, and the joy filling Hurley’s chest. She put her hands on the window and leaned out, screaming into the night. Her shriek of excitement turned into uncontrollable laughter. She fell back onto the bench seat, holding her stomach, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She’d never had more fun. She looked over to Sloane, she was laughing too. Hurley let out a whoop, and Sloane did too. The two of them, laughed and screamed into the night, and Hurley knew that this was why Sloane raced. She felt so alive.

They sped on for what felt like forever before Sloane stopped. “How was that?” she asked as Hurley tried to catch her breath.

“That was amazing!” Hurley was still shouting. Sloane laughed, nodding.

“Right?” She leaned back in the seat, breathing heavy. “God, there’s nothing like that feeling, Hurles.”

Hurley laughed. “Is that what’s happening?” she asked. Sloane winked at her.

“You know it babe,” she said.

After that first night Hurley was hooked. Every night she could she went to Sloane’s and they went over racing strategies, driving the wagon, the other racers and how they were going to beat them. They spent so much time together, mostly in Sloane’s mechanics shop but sometimes at Sloane or Hurley’s apartment. Sometimes, between topics, Hurley found herself just looking at Sloane, memorizing the way her eyelashes framed her black eyes or wishing she could push a stray lock of hair out of her face. She didn’t know how to stop thinking these things, but Sloane hadn’t made any advances since that first night. Sure, they flirted sometimes, but that was just joking around. Every so often, though, all she could do was imagine what it would be like to kiss her again and think about how much trouble she was in.


	5. Chapter 5

It was a week before the next race. Hurley and Sloane were in the wagon outside the cliffs again, this time with Hurley behind the wheel. They’d come to the conclusion that Hurley would drive in the next race and Sloane would run defense. She’d been busy improving the magic in her arrows that she used against the other racers. So here they were, stars out above them, and Hurley was going to drive them around the desert.

“Remember what I told you,” Sloane said from the passenger seat.

“I know, Sloane,” Hurley said, flexing her hand on the gear shift. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of your baby.”

Sloane snorted. “I mean yeah, you’d better,” she said. Out of the corner of her eye Hurley saw that Sloane was looking straight at her when she said it. She tried not to read into it.

“Alright,” she said mostly to herself, “here we go.”

And they went. Hurley hit the gas and shouted wordlessly as they shot forwards. She was more focused this time than the first time they went out, shifting gears and getting faster. It came naturally to her. She shifted again and wondered how she’d never done this before. It felt like this was what she was born to do. Sloane was screaming with excitement, bouncing in the seat beside her.

“Yes, hell yeah!” she was screaming. “Lets fucking go! Hell fucking yes!”

Hurley was laughing at her excitement, loving every moment. Riding in a race wagon was exhilarating, but driving was on another level. It was everything Sloane had said it was. She was so completely free and she knew that for the rest of her life she’d want to keep feeling like this.

Eventually Hurley stopped, gasping for breath and whooping. “Yeah!” she exclaimed, turning to Sloane. “Sloane, yes! That was the best time I’ve ever had. Sloane, babe, you have to let me drive again.”

Sloane was smiling so wide, and for a moment Hurley knew that if she leaned forwards and kissed her it would make it the most perfect moment in her life. The moment stretched out until Sloane gasped out a laugh and turned to face the front. “Yeah, I mean that was the plan Hurles,” she said. “Cmon, let’s cool down.”

They got out of the wagon and Sloane hopped up on the hood of the wagon. Hurley joined her. They laid on the hood, looking up at the stars in silence. Hurley finally broke the silence, saying “how did you do it?”

“Hmm?” Sloane asked, sounding calm for once.

“Make it so far without a partner? You must have had to concentrate on like four different things at once.”

Sloane laughed. “Yeah, more like eleven things,” she said. “What can I say Hurles? I’m the best.”

Hurley laughed. “Of course, how could I even doubt that.” She stretched her arms above her head. Her hand found Sloane’s hair and started stroking absentmindedly. Sloane hummed happily.

“I had a partner once,” she said after a moment. Hurley looked over at her. They’d talked about backstories before. They were spending almost every day together, it would have been hard to not. But Hurley had never heard this one. She was almost scared to respond in case Sloane didn’t realize what she’d said.

“Yeah?” Hurley said after a moment. Sloane shifted beside her and spoke again.

“Yeah. She was the driver, I was defense. She was also the cash of the situation.” Sloane laughed. “I dunno if you’ve noticed but it’s been rough funding this shit without her.”

“What happened?” Hurley asked before she could wonder if pressing for information was smart.

“We broke up and she fucked off,” Sloane said. “I mean it’s fine, she kinda turned into a piece of shit and I don’t miss her, but would sure love to get my hands on some of that prize money this time.”

“Yeah,” Hurley said quietly. “You think we have a chance?”

“I think we stand a better chance than me alone,” Sloane said. She reached up and squeezed Hurley’s hand. “We’re gonna be great babe.”

“Yeah we are,” Hurley said. She made a private vow that she would do everything she could to win this race for Sloane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just an extra short one for now. depending on how bored i get waiting for this flight i might post another chapter later today lol. also, we say wagons, but these are totally just cars right?

**Author's Note:**

> I spent an entire day writing this when I should have been doing school work, so I actually have all of this written out already it's just a matter of editing and posting it. It'll be either seven or eight chapters, I'm not entirely sure yet. I hope you guys like it cause it's probably one of my favourite fanfics I've ever written! I just love these useless lesbians so much ahhhhh (also my inspiration for Hurley in the first scene was 100% Jake Peralta.... somehow I think they'd be very similar as cops lol)


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